


He Never Understood Thursdays.

by mishamig0



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, Triggers, it seems like all i do is kill people, please dont hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1411168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishamig0/pseuds/mishamig0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this months ago and planned it to be the end of a fic I was working on. I never got it done so felt I should post what I had.</p><p>Sorry.</p><p>However, all feedback is welcome either on here or on Twitter! @demoniclevi</p><p>Again, apologies. Happy Thursday!</p>
    </blockquote>





	He Never Understood Thursdays.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago and planned it to be the end of a fic I was working on. I never got it done so felt I should post what I had.
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> However, all feedback is welcome either on here or on Twitter! @demoniclevi
> 
> Again, apologies. Happy Thursday!

Zachariah returned at seven that evening to a dark home. It was an odd sight, usually Castiel was running around the kitchen trying to prepare his uncle a hearty meal. But there was an eerie silence about the place. There was no sound, only that of the great grandfather clock sitting dominantly in the dining room. Zachariah paced up and down the landing, calling for his nephew to make himself known immediately. He had known Castiel was home as his backpack was sitting my the front door. But yet, silence filled the house. Sighing, Zachariah climbed the staircase and stormed to Castiel’s tiny bedroom. Castiel always left his bedroom door open as to see the sun peer in from the opposing window. But yet, it was closed. Zachariah took a step forward and grabbed the door handle. “Castiel Novak, how dare yo-”

\--

Dean was spread across his sofa when his phone buzzed. He smiled as it read “Cas” and flipped his phone open. He’d had a great day with Cas, it was a Thursday which made it better. Thursdays were the one day neither of them were working and got to spend the entire day on Dean’s sofa, watching terrible movies and hardly ever paying attention.   
His smile faded as soon as he read what was before him.  
“I’m sorry Dean, I love you.”  
Dean leapt to his feet, grabbing the keys to the Impala before running out the door, refusing to acknowledge his worried fathers stare. He started the car with a fierce twist of the key and sped to the other side of town. “Come on, come on, come on,” he chanted endlessly as he broke speed limits. He parked outside the unwelcoming Novak residence before running up the path and through the front door. The home was more unwelcoming than usual, much to Dean’s dismay as he ran from room to room, calling his lovers name. “Cas? Cas, are you here?!” Dean knew Castiel was home, his backpack was in it’s usual spot by the front door.  
He ran up the stairs, two at a time, and noticed Zachariah standing by Castiel’s bedroom door.

\--

Zachariah’s yells were cut short as he noticed, through the darkness, a rope hanging from the ceiling fan. Upon further observation and the help of a light switch, Zachariah was struck dumb due to the sight before him.  
His nephew’s lifeless body hung there. His skin was paler than usual and his eyes were firmly closed. He swung lightly from left to right and the look on his face was one Zachariah had never seen before. In front of the fallen chair lay his fathers video camera. Something which Castiel took on all of his “adventures” with the Winchester boy.

\--

Dean ran towards Zachariah, noticing the fallen expression on the other mans face. He stood closer and drew his eyes towards the body in which Zachariah stared.   
Dean felt his world collapse around him, as Castiel, the boy he loved, swung there and Dean could not miss the look of contentment on his lovers face, neither could he hear his own piercing screams as he ran towards Castiel, hauling his legs upon his. “Call a fucking ambulance!” Zachariah still stood there, frozen as he heard Dean’s words. His eyes met the young boys and a glimmer of evil swiped across his eyes. He took his phone calmly from his pocket and dialled 911, though before calling, he gave Dean another heartless look.  
“Castiel never did get the hang of Thursdays,” he joked before calling. Dean gave the man a look of complete hatred as he tried his best to hold Castiel up, however knowing that it was too late. He let go, and stood back from his body. He was too broken to think of Zachariah’s words.  
“Hello?! I-I need an ambulance! My nephew, he’s committed suicide!! Hurry up and get here!” Dean heard the man roll off his address and felt physically sick at the thought of Zachariah faking his heartache. He crumbled to his knees and heard distant sirens approaching.

\--

Dean sat on the porch of the Novak household, feeling numb and lost. He had no idea how long he had been out here, but he knew it was long enough that he started to feel a slight chill. He sighed and prepared to leave before a young woman approached him.  
“Dean? Dean Winchester?” Her voice was quiet and sympathetic.  
“Yeah?”   
“Um, this was found in Mr. Novak’s bedroom. The note on the front said “For Dean” so I guess that would be you.” She handed him the video camera and nodded before walking back to the other officers.  
Dean sat there for a moment longer, staring at the camera as if it were alien technology. He pulled himself up from the porch and got in the Impala.  
Dean was, for the first time, grateful when he pulled up outside his home. The car held too many memories of him and Castiel’s relationship. He walked silently into his loving home, and only wished Castiel could have experienced the same. His father came running towards him and pulled him into a tight hug.  
“I’m so sorry, son,” John murmured. John must have been called by…someone. Dean didn’t care who. He pulled away and nodded at his father.  
“I’m gonna go to bed, if that’s okay.” John agreed and gave his son a warming smile though his saddened eyes were unmistakable. Dean turned and walked solemnly to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He let his forehead rest there for a moment before pulling himself into his bed.  
He opened the video camera up and held a deep breathe before pressing play.  
There sat Castiel, in his desk chair, looking tired and forlorn.  
“Dean, I don’t know if you will have took the time to watch this, but if you have, thank you.” Castiel started. Dean could already feel the stinging of his eyes. “I just wanted you to know that these past few weeks with you have been…” Castiel sighed and looked straight into the camera lens. “They’ve been amazing. And I have never felt more alive than when I did by your side. However, as you know, life in my home is not one I wish to be a part of any longer.” Dean clenched his teeth as a single tear rolled down his face. “And as I could not bare to leave my childhood home, I thought it would be best to stay here. But, I also want you to realise that you were the only one for me. You made me feel like myself again even if it were only for a few hours a day. And you will always be the only boy I ever fell in love with. You made me feel as if I had self worth and I will never forget that, wherever I am.” Castiel’s eyes began to tear up as he walked towards the camera. “I love you, Dean Winchester. Goodbye.”   
The screen went black and Dean was suddenly overcome with the dormant tears. He lay on his bed, caressing the camera close as he wept into his pillow. Castiel was gone. Cas was dead. The boy who took Dean’s breathe away would never again smile. He would not get to experience a life with Dean as they had planned. His eyes would never light up the same drowning blue. Dean tightened his grip on the camera.

  
Castiel Novak didn’t understand Thursdays. And now he never will.


End file.
